Go, Ivy, Go! Read Online Free PDF Page A
Author: Lorena McCourtney
sculptor,” the guy said. “I have a shop set up out in the garage. I’m working on a cow with motorcycle-handlebar horns and taillight eyes now. Would you like to see it?”
“Umm, maybe later.”
“Eric is very artistic,” the woman offered.
Okay, I could go along with that. Art is in the eye of the beholder. Although bicycle-handle horns might be stretching it. And I wouldn’t want to be under that chandelier in an earthquake.
The guy laughed, as if he made no claim to artistic talent himself. “You’d be surprised how well this stuff sells at flea markets. I call them Ockunzzi Originals. By the way, I’m Eric Ockunnzi, and this is my wife, Tam— ”
“Tasha,” the woman broke in. “Tasha Tremaine.”
We all shook hands. I thought it a little odd that Eric got his wife’s name wrong, and her last name wasn’t even the same as his. But that’s okay. Their generation does things differently than mine. I appreciated that Eric was careful not to crush my hand with his muscular fingers in the handshake.
“Does your grandmother live here too?” I asked. “I saw you taking her for a walk last evening when I drove in.” I turned to Tam/Tasha. “Or maybe she’s your grandma?”
The two exchanged glances. “Grandma comes and goes,” she said. “She isn’t here right now.”
“Maybe I can meet her sometime?”
“We might be able to arrange that,” Tam/Tasha said.
“I remember some people named Caulkins used to live here. I guess they moved away?”
“We don’t know any Caulkins, do we?” Tam/Tasha asked the Man-of-Muscle.
“We rent through an agency, so we don’t have any contact with the actual owners. We asked if the owners wanted to sell, but apparently it’s some big company that’s buying up everything in the neighborhood. Look, why don’t you sit down for a minute?” The guy motioned me toward the sofa. “You look a little pale. Finding a dead body in your bathtub must be traumatic.”
”Would you like something to drink?” the woman asked. “Green tea? Coffee?”
A tranquilizer, perhaps? To help rid you of bizarre delusions about bodies in bathtubs?
“Thank you, no. I’ll just go back to the house so I’ll be there when someone comes. The body is in the upstairs bathroom.”
“How about if I come with you?” the guy suggested. “Just in case you need help or something.”
Help? “I wasn’t planning to move her. And it’s a little late for CPR.”
Admittedly, that was a little snarky, because I knew they didn’t believe me, but he didn’t seem to notice.
“I’ll come along anyway,” he said. “Just in case.” This time he left the in case open-ended. In case my mind slipped even further, and I forgot where I was going? In case I had some bizarre delusion about outer space aliens hiding in trees?
Eric disappeared down the hallway and came back pulling a t-shirt over his head, flip-flops on his feet. I was fascinated by the size of both the footwear and t-shirt. Was there a place called Muscles-R-Us where guys like him shopped?
“Have you seen anyone at my place in the last few months?” I asked.
“You were living there when we moved here in February,” Tam/Tasha said. “Remember? We met once when you were carrying a grocery sack home. I asked if you needed help, but you said you could manage. Then a funny looking vegetable fell out of the sack and I asked what it was, and you said it was a parsnip. But you usually avoided me.”
“I wasn’t here in February. And I never buy parsnips.” The Lord no doubt created parsnips for a purpose, but I’ve not yet found what it is.
Tam/Tasha peered at me more closely. I wasn’t sure if she thought my memory was fading like some old photograph, or if she was confused because of something I’d encountered before. You little old ladies all look alike. I can’t tell you apart. Whoever named these the Golden Years must have mislaid his glasses. How about the Invisible Years? Not that elder-
“Umm, maybe later.”
“Eric is very artistic,” the woman offered.
Okay, I could go along with that. Art is in the eye of the beholder. Although bicycle-handle horns might be stretching it. And I wouldn’t want to be under that chandelier in an earthquake.
The guy laughed, as if he made no claim to artistic talent himself. “You’d be surprised how well this stuff sells at flea markets. I call them Ockunzzi Originals. By the way, I’m Eric Ockunnzi, and this is my wife, Tam— ”
“Tasha,” the woman broke in. “Tasha Tremaine.”
We all shook hands. I thought it a little odd that Eric got his wife’s name wrong, and her last name wasn’t even the same as his. But that’s okay. Their generation does things differently than mine. I appreciated that Eric was careful not to crush my hand with his muscular fingers in the handshake.
“Does your grandmother live here too?” I asked. “I saw you taking her for a walk last evening when I drove in.” I turned to Tam/Tasha. “Or maybe she’s your grandma?”
The two exchanged glances. “Grandma comes and goes,” she said. “She isn’t here right now.”
“Maybe I can meet her sometime?”
“We might be able to arrange that,” Tam/Tasha said.
“I remember some people named Caulkins used to live here. I guess they moved away?”
“We don’t know any Caulkins, do we?” Tam/Tasha asked the Man-of-Muscle.
“We rent through an agency, so we don’t have any contact with the actual owners. We asked if the owners wanted to sell, but apparently it’s some big company that’s buying up everything in the neighborhood. Look, why don’t you sit down for a minute?” The guy motioned me toward the sofa. “You look a little pale. Finding a dead body in your bathtub must be traumatic.”
”Would you like something to drink?” the woman asked. “Green tea? Coffee?”
A tranquilizer, perhaps? To help rid you of bizarre delusions about bodies in bathtubs?
“Thank you, no. I’ll just go back to the house so I’ll be there when someone comes. The body is in the upstairs bathroom.”
“How about if I come with you?” the guy suggested. “Just in case you need help or something.”
Help? “I wasn’t planning to move her. And it’s a little late for CPR.”
Admittedly, that was a little snarky, because I knew they didn’t believe me, but he didn’t seem to notice.
“I’ll come along anyway,” he said. “Just in case.” This time he left the in case open-ended. In case my mind slipped even further, and I forgot where I was going? In case I had some bizarre delusion about outer space aliens hiding in trees?
Eric disappeared down the hallway and came back pulling a t-shirt over his head, flip-flops on his feet. I was fascinated by the size of both the footwear and t-shirt. Was there a place called Muscles-R-Us where guys like him shopped?
“Have you seen anyone at my place in the last few months?” I asked.
“You were living there when we moved here in February,” Tam/Tasha said. “Remember? We met once when you were carrying a grocery sack home. I asked if you needed help, but you said you could manage. Then a funny looking vegetable fell out of the sack and I asked what it was, and you said it was a parsnip. But you usually avoided me.”
“I wasn’t here in February. And I never buy parsnips.” The Lord no doubt created parsnips for a purpose, but I’ve not yet found what it is.
Tam/Tasha peered at me more closely. I wasn’t sure if she thought my memory was fading like some old photograph, or if she was confused because of something I’d encountered before. You little old ladies all look alike. I can’t tell you apart. Whoever named these the Golden Years must have mislaid his glasses. How about the Invisible Years? Not that elder-